Nightmare of Ecstasy  The Strange Fate of Ron S
by SHADO Commander
Summary: Where's the Angst? Here's the Angst! Where's Ron in drag? Here's Ron in drag! Where's the KiGo? Hmmm... looks like it may be here too. It's a very special afterschool special with Ron and Kim and Shego. Oh, and Ned. NED?  Yes, it's Ch. 3, RON OR RHONDA?
1. Ticket 9 From the Preen & Kleen!

AN: NoDrog put a certain challenge up at the Haven and people have been asking me to do a Ron-centric story. Well, here it is and be careful what you ask for in the future. Legal Stuff at bottom.

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**Nightmare of Ecstasy:** _The Strange Life and Fate of Ron Stoppable_

By SHADO Commander

_Chapter 1 – Ticket 9 From the Kleen & Preen_

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It all started innocently enough.

Well, okay, not really _completely_ innocently, but as innocently as anything could ever start when it came to the world of Ron Stoppable. After all, when you hang with a girl who became a vigilante while still in braces and routinely rub shoulders with secret agents and supervillains, the word _innocent_ takes on a slightly different meaning… and he WAS guilty, in a way, of the instigating incident and perhaps not doing everything he could do to forestall the inevitable disaster…

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"No Ron! No!" Kim yelled, as she realized that Ron's trajectory was going to take him directly underneath the very huge and very wobbly tank of some kind of chemical, "Run the other…!"

"What?" Ron boggled, reversing course a fraction of a second too late. Damn it, why did he always forget that while Drakken laid out his lairs using very logical wheel and spoke configurations, Dementor favored counterclockwise spirals. As a result, Ron had just zagged when he should have zigged and…

"…way!" Kim finished desperately as she saw her best friend's foot kick against one of the flimsy struts holding the tank in place.

The ensuing panic as Dementor's henchmen simultaneously and instantaneously abandoned both their pursuit of the blonde teen and their attempts to fight off Kim, all making beelines for the exits, told the tale without words… although there were still quite a few "Oh Shits!" and "Aieeee!"s for color. This was going to be Bad with three extra 'b's and 'a's with the 'd' being the grade of survivability. Like a 900 year old man leaning over to pick up his remote off the carpet, the tank made a horrific creaking sound and then, slowly but surely, began to cant forwards precariously until…

"RON!" Kim screamed as she leapt forward, shoving her friend out of the way with a massive body slam that propelled Ronald's bug-eyed body out of the way in the nick of time. Unfortunately, that same slam had the effect of completely canceling Kim's own bodily inertia, and her scream blended in horrific harmony with the screech of the twisting metal as the bolted seams of the giant container ruptured in a nightmarish black torrent that engulfed the heroine.

"KIM!" Ron yelled in horror as he saw the vile wave of darkness strike his partner, bowling her off of her feet. He was racing forward even as he dreaded the sight of the caustic chemicals dissolving her flesh, but what he actually saw was even more horrifying!

Kim Possible was a light skinned redhead with a predilection for midriff baring outfits, but the solid black figure that rose out of the inky lake of black ooze surrounding Dementor's latest demented device was, well, black. What unspeakable monstrosity had the chemical ooze mutated her into?

"Kim…?" Ron began, but was silenced by a slim raven-hued hand that flew up in the long established sign language that he knew all too well from the miserable period when they had been dating to mean _"Don't Say ONE Word."_ It was eerie, seeing those olive eyes he knew so well peering out of this strange black Kim-shaped figure, looking suspiciously like the Martian in those old Roger Rabbit cartoons. And she was miming something at him… something about putting a banana in her ear? Using a pocket calculator?

"Kimmunicator, Ron! Call Wade!" Kim finally gave up and erupted, gagging and spitting as the foul tasting piceous substance crept into the edges of her mouth. "Gah! Ptooi! Oh, God, that's awful. Mine's covered in ink."

Ink? Oh yes, now that Ron thought about it, Drakken's device DID look remarkably like a printing press. And that inky lake would, in fact, be…

"JUST CALL HIM!" Kim screamed, jerking him out of his stupor! "Call him, beep him, and find out what will get this fucking stuff OFF ME!"

Okay, possibly it was mind altering ink, Ron thought, as Kim Possible never swore… well, not since they'd been dating, anyway, although judging by the way she was heading towards him with her hands in an apparent throat-throttling position… also rather like the last days of their dating… perhaps he'd better just call Wade and let HIM handle it. He could do that while running and come back and pick up Rufus… who was still somewhere in the lair's ventilation system… later.

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Fortunately, it turned out that it was 'just' ink. Apparently Dementor, in a typical burst of brilliant but logistically backwards supervillain methodology, had been printing fake business cards, fake pamphlets… even signs for fake yard sales… all of which shared the same phone number, one that actually connected to a server that downloaded a virus designed to make smart phones report only the information he wanted them to. For once, Wade was actually the one to be the hero, solving the issue by the simple means of writing an anti-virus then back-tracking the origin using one of his special virus immune systems and wiping Dementor's bug of every server or computer that it had ever come into contact with.

"Fortunately I just had to do the same thing with our family reunion photos, so the code was mostly written," the teen genius had gloated as he finished his cleanup of Dementor's digital detritus. "Oh, and I had one of my Wadebots pick up Rufus. He's a little irritated at being left behind, but understands given the urgency of the situation."

Of course, that urgency referred to the more literal part of the cleanup, which was proving to be no simple task. While the good news was that the ink was just ink, it was STILL ink and Kim had become a human Rorschach test, a feminine ink blotter soaked to capacity with the stuff. So, after sponging Kim down with some old Henchco coveralls they found, then scavenging several old newspapers to line the Sloth, they had driven to the nearest SmartyMart, where Ron ran in and used his employee discount to purchase all of the cleaning chemicals that Wade recommended, as well a large supply of cheap rags normally used for cleaning cars, while Kim lay concealed and congealing in the car under a covering of even more newspapers.

Next stop: Ron's house.

"Wait… why MY house?" Ron had complained at first. "If we get any ink on the carpet…"

He cut himself off as he saw the baleful green glare oozing out of Kim's otherwise void-like countenance.

"First," Kim replied blackly, counting out the reasons with ebony fingers. "Because I'm not checking into a hotel with anybody, even under a fake name, and I wouldn't do that to a maid anyway. Second, because there's no way I'm taking a chance on the Tweebs spotting me like this and posting embarrassing photos on the internet, third, because after spending several hours scrubbing this stuff off of me, the last thing I'm going to want to do is spend another hour scrubbing my shower afterwards, fourth because you have your own private shower in your room, and fifth, Ron, because you owe me big for this one. You zagged…"

"When I should have zigged! I know, I know!" Ron agreed quickly, a bit unnerved by how satanic his friend's eyes and white teeth appeared when floating by themselves in a field of black, and even more by the fact that the fingers that had counted out those reasons had curled into a fist... and he was all too familiar with what that fist could do.

At least his parents' extremely regular schedule worked in their favor.

"We're in luck," Ron informed obsidi-Kim as he got back to the car. "Mom and Dad are out at their usual line dancing lessons and they left Hana at Cousin Bernice's."

From there, everything went as planned. With a quick glance around to make sure there were no Tweebs or Rockwallers hiding in the bushes, Ron quickly escorted Kim… and the half dozen sheets of newspaper that were now semi-permanently tacked to her skin with the rapidly hardening tacky pigment and bonding agent… around to the backdoor of the house, where he quickly began laying even more sheets of newspaper down in a path leading up to his room and ultimately to his shower.

Well, almost everything went as planned.

As Kim stepped into the shower and began peeling off her clothes, a weird sensation hit Ron as he saw the bra beneath her shirt. It was jet black too. As was every single bit of skin that he could see. And if the bra had been that soaked, then logically the skin beneath that would be pitch black as well. Ever since they had accidentally had their bodies swapped, Kim and Ron had had little body shyness around each other. Ron had sometimes wondered if that had been part of the reason that he and Kim ultimately been unable to work as a couple was that they knew each other TOO well… especially since it had been Kim's time of the month and… well, he still had some issues about that, but the thought of Kim's pale white breasts, her small pink nipples, all dyed into a single uniform shade of onyx… kind of like the ultimate in skin tight leather…

"Igottagogetthecleaningstuff!" Ron blurted, escaping before those thoughts went any further.

"Here you go," he told her a minute later as he passed the large bag of supplies over to her, through the half open door… and promptly undid all of the work he'd done calming himself on trip to the car and back as his evil eyes accidentally roamed down and, even though Kim WAS holding a towel in front of herself, it was clear that the black was everywhere. And if that long, lean lanky side that was showing was that exquisite shade of stygian sable… then that meant that Kim's magnificent rear end would almost certainly look like it had been perfectly fitted with…

"Ron?" The sharp voice barely cut into his musing.

"Uh huh?" He drooled vacantly.

"Does your family shower together?"

"No." Ron blinked stupidly. "Why?"

The green eyes in the night-sky toned face narrowed, reminding Ron that they weren't boyfriend/girlfriend anymore, and that even if they had once swapped bodies, their level of shared intimacy did not include any mutual scrub-a-dub-dubbing.

"oh." Ron gulped. "Right."

Retreating out to his room, he sat on the bed. "So… uh… what do you want me to do?"

"Actually," Kim's voice wafted out, "I think I need you to run another errand."

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"I never even knew there WERE 24 hour dry cleaners," Ron admitted as he handed over the tickets.

"Oh, yes," Diana Propylini, a blonde and attractive teen in a sleek red Ben Zeen's Kleen & Preen jumpsuit, smiled as she stepped back and engaged the motorized overhead hanger system, causing the carousel of plastic garment-bagged suits, dresses and other items to start a counter-clockwise journey about the periphery of the room. "There aren't many, of course, but since we're just down the street from Middleton Hospital and there are certain organic stains that only a good dose of environmentally friendly glycol ethers will handle, we tend to stay pretty busy. Ah! Here we go!"

Bringing the carousel to a stop, Di pulled a half dozen hangers and their hanger-ons out of the rotation and walked back towards Ron and the register.

"Oh, I only need the one… er… two items," the sidekick interrupted, pointing to the last of Kim's old-style mission outfits, which the teen hero had reluctantly agreed to donate to a charity auction and had included in her mother's dry cleaning run in one final attempt to remove the stubborn monkey-initiated stains that had forced its retirement. That had been quite fortuitous for Ron, as he would no doubt have had to find a way to get a clean change of clothes from the Possible residence without attracting the attention of the Tweebs, something that had become increasingly difficult as their ability to produce surveillance systems had blossomed to the point where even a master ninja would have been challenged to get into Kim's room unnoticed. "Just that crop top and the cargo pants."

"Are you sure?" the girl queried questioningly, a quizzical expression on her face. "I mean, sure, I can do it if you want, but these were all brought in on the same ticket… see?"

Ron looked down and realized that she was right. Although each of the claim tickets Kim had told him to fish out of her purse had a separate serial number, each also had a big red stamp reading Order Number 9 stamped on them.

"That means they were brought in using one of our Kleen Living Koupons," Di continued, "So, if you break them up you'll not only have to pay the higher individual rates for these now and the coupons will be invalid when you pick up the others later. You'd end up paying more than double by the time all was said and done."

"oh." Ron thought about it and decided that the last thing he wanted to do given the mood Kim was currently in was to give her any other reason to be irritated with him. "Okay, what do I owe you for the lot?"

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Kim was still in the shower and Ron's Kimmunicator was beeping on the bed when he got back to his house.

"This is the Ron-man," He answered quickly, shifting the bags of dry cleaning from over his shoulder to his bed as a panicked looking Wade appeared on the screen.

"Ron? Is Kim with you? You haven't been answering my calls!"

"She's still in the shower at my place," Ron returned quickly, undoing the little bendy things that held the dry cleaning together in a bunch. "It's really hard to hear anything in there and I didn't think to turn up the ringer when I left my Kimmunicator with her. So, since she's not here to say it, 'What's the sitch?'"

"Do you find that as annoying as I do?" Wade asked unexpectedly.

"Honestly…?" Ron turned and looked at the door, just in case Kim's hearing had suddenly gone bionic. "Yes. But I'll never say it to her face."

"Neither will I," Wade nodded in tacit agreement. "I've seen her when she's ticked. Anyway, here's the deal in a nutshell: Drakken. Shego. The National Ultrasecret Department of Ecentric and Imaginary Engineering Institute. Right now."

"Again? I think Drakken just enjoys making Shego use that acronym," Ron groaned, separating the bags that held Kim's mission uniform from the others and walking to the shower door before yelling. "KIM! We've got a mission!"

"Oh FUCK!" Came the reply. Obviously things hadn't been going well. "Do you have my clothes?"

"Right here!" Ron responded.

The door opened a crack and a mostly pink arm reached out. Mostly, because there were still one or two small stains on the arm itself, but the fingernails… or more precisely, the area underneath… looked like Kim had been clawing at a huge bar of licorice. It was pretty… pretty disgusting.

"Okay, reach into my purse and bring me my cosmetics bag," Kim ordered as she handed back the empty hangers. Ron obediently ran the errand and came back to find a mostly dressed Kim staring in the mirror with what could almost be tears. Not that Ron could blame her. Besides the fingernails, the areas around Kim's eyes were still darkly splotched, as were her lips. And then there was her hair, which was still streaked with tiger stripes of black.

"Anything's possible for a Possible…" She mumbled under her breath and Ron watched in amazement as the array of cosmetics that Kim rarely wore were wielded by the hand of a master with amazing speed. A concealer and base covered all but the worst of it, and heavier than usual blush, eye makeup and lipstick did for the rest. Mascara, on the other hand, was quite unnecessary.

"Well?" The teen hero asked as she turned back to Ron. "Will it pass?"

"You look great," Ron swore, and it really wasn't a lie given that the extra layer cosmetics actually made Kim seem just a bit more 'mature,' which when put together with the accidental punk-style streaking of her hair that gave her a bit more of an 'edge' and the fact that she very, VERY obviously wasn't wearing her still ink-soaked bra under the old and now a bit over-tight mission top, all combined to make his friend look less like Kim Possible and more like a high-paid prostitute who specialized in pretending to be Kim Possible. However, since telling Kim THAT probably wouldn't be good for Ron's dental health, he decided to leave it at that and finish with the one question he did have. "What about your fingernails?"

Kim held up a bottle of deep green nail polish in answer, somewhat assured by Ron's words. "This ought to be dark enough to hide the stains, but my gloves will hide them for now. Now let's get a move on before She... I mean THEY escape."

"Your chariot awaits, me lady," Ron confirmed as together they dashed out the door.

And thirty minutes later, the event that would change Ron's life forever occurred.

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"Ronald?" Nonah Jean Stoppable's voice came from outside the shut door. "We stopped by SmartyMart and they were having a super sale on toilet paper. Your father could use some help bringing them all in."

"Ronald?"

After another long minute, the door opened and Nonah "Nonnie" Stoppable poked her head cautiously inside, 'tsk'ing as she saw the still burning light in the corner that had led her and her husband Nathaniel Gene to assume that their workhorse of a son was home as they came up the driveway. Well, Nat would have to unload all those 50 packs of single-ply, 2000 sheets into the garage by himself and she'd be sure to give Ronald a scolding when he got home. His father might make a good living as an actuary, but that didn't mean the family had money to throw away on lights that nobody was using!

Having grown up with multiple brothers, she knew that boy's rooms inevitably held surprises that most female eyes would prefer not to discover, and by unspoken agreement, she and Nat normally maintained a practical policy of only entering Ronald's room when he was present. However, the irritation over the matter of the lamp quickly overrode her natural inclination to not step into her son's zone of privacy, and with sure, swift steps she skirted around the dirty laundry as she moved to extinguish the bedside lamp that had been missed in Ron and Kim's hasty exit, Nonnie was about to shut if off… when something else caught her eye.

Dry cleaning? And more than that, dry cleaning that hadn't been done at her cousin Bernice's shop? What in the world…?

And then Nonnie's perception of the universe shifted underneath her as she realized that the clothing was women's clothing. And not just that… as she picked up the bags and looked at the contents, it was VERY obvious that the items inside didn't belong to Ron's friend Kim. For one thing, these weren't exactly the kind of clothes that teenage girls normally wore, and as she further examined them, she saw that they had been tailored for a more mature figure. A TALLER mature figure.

If Nonnie had found Jacques Cousteau, in full wetsuit and aqua-lung, sitting on Ron's bed, she couldn't have been more pole-axed. Just what did this mean? She'd been worrying about Ronald ever since he and Kim had decided to stop dating and go back to being 'just friends,' and the fact that she really didn't know why they had broken up had only compounded it. So to find evidence of a very different kind of feminine presence in his room was baffling. A presence of which she knew absolutely nothing! Who had he…? When had he…? And why was it so perfectly pressed and kept when most of his clothes spent weeks on the floor before finally making their journey to the laundry room downstairs?

As if drawn by a magnet, Nonnie found herself pulled towards her son's private bath.

It was a disgrace, of course, with towels and cleaning items strewn everywhere, but her natural ire over that was swallowed in the ocean of emotions that raced through her body as she saw the cosmetics still lying out on the bathroom sink, and the black lingerie hanging over the curtain rod.

Her senses reeling, Nonnie backed out of the bath and then out of her son's room. She didn't even remember to turn off the light.

Her son had been keeping a secret from her. One that she had never even imagined in her most bizarre dreams… and yet the evidence was all there.

Ron Stoppable… her son… was a cross dresser.

_To Be Continued In The Next Chapter… __**THAT SINISTER URGE**_

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_**Legal stuff!:**__ Kim Possible, Ron Stoppable, Wade Load, Rufus, Dr. Dementor, Dr. Draken, Shego, Hana Stoppable, Mr. and Mrs. Stoppable, SmaryMart and Henchco are all borrowed from the wonderful KP Universe, the creations of Mark McCorkle and Bob Schooley, and trademarks of the Disney media organizations. The senior Stoppable's full names are subject to conjecture, so I've incoporated the most common fanon names with ones I feel fit better in the context of the show: Nat Stoppable and Nonnie Stoppable. For those who haven't caught it, both the story's name and the title of both this and the chapter are references to the legendary Ed Wood. All use should be considered fair under current parody law, and is not for profit in any case. Finally, this story takes place at a time at which all characters shown should be considered to be over the legal age of 18_


	2. That Sinister Urge!

_AN: I wanted to get the second chapter out quickly so people could see where the story was going. Hey, no one can say it ain't RonCentric. Heh heh. From here on it'll go into a cycle with ATCOTS, PRINCESS DIARIES and THE BACK UP PLAN, so expect the next chapter in a week or so. Legal Stuff at bottom._

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**Nightmare of Ecstasy:** The Strange Life and Fate of Ron Stoppable

By SHADO Commander

_Chapter 2 – That Sinister Urge_

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It was hours later when Ron finally dragged in, bewildered and shell-shocked. To say that things had gone strangely on this last mission was the understatement of the year… no, of the millennium.

Staring at the stack of dry cleaning still lying on his bed, he realized that he'd have to take it over himself… but he might want to wait a bit on that. The revelations of the evening had yet to percolate through his brain and he wanted them to have a chance to simmer for a while, letting the strange brew blend before he attempted to swallow it.

Fortunately, there was plenty of room in his closet, so it took only a few seconds to position the still wrapped garments in a less conspicuous portion back corner. A few more and he'd carefully scooped the cosmetics Kim had left behind back into their bag so he'd have room to brush his teeth. The bathroom itself was way to big a mess to tackle in his exhausted state, so he put that chore off for the next day, along with the question of what to do with Kim's ink-stained mission clothes and lingerie, which he deposited in a spare trash bag… better treatment than he gave his own clothes, which he stripped out of and left in a heap on the floor as he collapsed backwards onto the bed wearing only his boxer shorts.

What in the hey-nonny-ha ha had just happened tonight?

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They'd arrived at the National Ultrasecret Department of Eccentric and Imaginary Engineering Institute to find Drakken and Shego _fighting_. Not the usual bickering back and forth that was standard procedure for the dysfunctional duo, but really _fighting _as in yelling at each other at the top of their lungs, with Drakken hiding behind a large rolling cabinet as Shego tossed balls of plasma at him. To be fair, it didn't look like Shego was actually trying to hit her supposed employer, just get close enough to singe him, but if he'd dodged the wrong way it could get very nasty….

Ron stared down from the skylight he'd planned on entering the building through and seriously rethought his plan of attack. Whatever was going on, Shego was PISSED, and given that his normal job of tackling Drakken would have taken him directly into her field of fire, he was strongly of the opinion that the Ron-man might be best off making a no-show tonight. He turned to Kim to inform her of that opinion, but she was already in the process of prying the skylight she had chosen open.

With a deep gulp, Ron turned his view back down towards the train-wreck unfolding before him, the old adage about time seeming to slow down and senses becoming more aware in times of extreme crisis proving unexpectedly true. For some reason he found himself noticing every little detail. The slightly olive color of the metallic flooring beneath him, the odd flickering light caused by a failing ballast in one of the fluorescent fixtures illuminating the huge warehouse, and the erect status of Kim's unsupported nipples due to the chill night air around them all seemed to pop into his mind with crystal clarity, perfectly recorded at a resolution that would put ultra-high definition 3D movies with 19.3 surround sound to shame. (The bit about Kim's built in thermal indicators was especially popping.) And even from this distance, he could see every nuance of Shego's facial expression. He'd never seen the green woman blush before, but he had a good idea now as to what color her cheeks would be as the flush of her anger was an odd shade of chartreuse that actually went rather well with her black and green jumpsuit. The girl might be evil but she sure knew how to dress and coordinated down to the bone.

"…of all the stupid, lame and disgusting things you have ever had me do," Shego was yelling as Kim smoothly lifted the skylight cover and the sound of the argument went from a muffled mess of mumbled middle tones to a clearly defined and discernible diatribe, "This has to be the lowest, the foulest…"

"Should be a perfect job for you, then, shouldn't it?" Kim growled as she landed on the catwalk a few dozen feet from the pissed off villainess, then flipped easily over the guardrail to drop the final twenty feet to the floor.

"What the…?" Shego jerked around, having been so distracted that she hadn't even noticed Kim's arrival. "Do you know what this blue pervert wanted me to steal…?"

And then Shego's voice apparently simply gave out, her mouth gaping open in an excellent imitation of a nutcracker doll.

"K…?"

"Come on Shego, let's do it!" Kim was already charging, "I've got a lot of aggravation to work off."

Except, unfortunately, Shego didn't respond as Kim expected. She didn't respond at ALL…

Except to go over like a collapsing house of cards when Kim's first swing went straight to her jaw with a sickening crack!

"ki… ki.." Shego gurgled as she hit the metal floor with all the grace of a side of well marbled meat being slapped onto a butcher's table.

"SHEGO!" Drakken screamed and was racing for his sidekick

"Oh my God!" Kim shrieked in shock, making her own run for the fallen henchwoman.

"Oh heckens," Ron thought, finally flipping up his own skylight and dropping his rappelling rope in order to guard Kim's back.

Kim beat Drakken by seconds, but neither gave any thought to the others'proximity as they took opposite sides and immediately began examining the unconscious woman like a team of veteran paramedics.

"Ron! Kimmunicator her!" Kim ordered as her sidekick stumbled up to them, initiating a full diagnostic scan and pulling up Wade's link at the same time.

"Hey Ron, what's the…? Whoa!" Wade's tiny face gasped. "How did…?"

"Just tell me how she is?" Kim cut him off. "Can we move her?"

"Hold on… hold on…." The young genius' brow creased as he fired the transmitted data over to the medical database ap on his Android phone. "Um, move her? I don't see any obvious signs of a concussion, but she's got a broken jaw and cheekbone but those…."

"…are already healing," Drakken finished with a worried look. "A useful survival trait but with an unfortunate Achilles heel. If she follows her usual form, it'll be completely healed within a few days, but we need to get it properly set now or it'll have to be broken again to fix the deformity."

"Do you know how to do that?" Kim demanded.

"No," the blue scientist admitted ruefully. "Clones I can make, bones I can't fix."

"Me neither," Wade chimed in. "You need to get to a hospital fast."

"But…" Drakken began.

"I swear I'll keep her from being arrested, okay?" Kim promised abruptly.

"WHAT?" Ron, Drakken and Wade blurted simultaneously.

"Fair's fair," Kim mumbled. "Something wasn't right about the way I took her down. I don't know why but for some reason it felt like a cheap shot."

"Uh…" Ron gaped. "Huh?"

"YOU, on the other hand," Kim added, clasping a set of handcuffs around Drakken's tiny wrists before he could even blink, "Are so busted."

"Oh snap!"

Kim was already walking over to the row of lockers on the far wall. "Wade, can you call my mom and tell her I'm coming in with a special case that requires total privacy. The usual spot."

"Right! I'll call the vets and have them open up," Wade confirmed as Kim leveled a devastating kick into the guts of the lockers, jolting several of the doors off their hinges.

"Wha…" Ron asked, now totally confused as he watched Kim finish tearing one of the doors off with her hands. "Vet?"

"It's where I usually go when I get shot," Kim explained, lowering the improvised stretcher next to Shego. "I need you and Drewby's belts."

"Uh… okay…" Ron had his belt half off already when it hit him. "Wait! When have you been SHOT?"

"Another time Ron!" Kim growled in exasperation. "Just take Drakken out and put him in the trunk, then come back and help me get Shego out of here, okay?"

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Yeah… that had been more than just strange. It was as though he'd suddenly discovered that Kim wasn't quite the person that he'd always thought she was.

More than that… it also implied that there must have been missions that she went on without him. More dangerous missions that she trusted Wade to know about, but not him…

And he didn't even want to think about the things that Drakken had said, AFTER they'd made it to the Mauser & Bauser Veterinary Clinic and he and Kim had offloaded Shego. It had been disturbing enough to learn that Kim was actually registered as a cat at the clinic, a rather accident prone orange tabby by the name of Princess, in fact, to which all the anesthetics and surgical supplies were routinely billed… a detail that Ron had managed to glean as her overheard Shego receiving a quick renaming as the Possibles' new pet, a Siamese named Jade. But when Kim's mom had arrived with a full rolling toolcart of additional medical gear, it had only served to press home that this whole exercise was one that the Possibles were quite prepared for.

And who in the hell maintains a registration on a fictitious cat? Especially to cover up part of their own medical care?

"Didn't know about any of it did you?" Drakken had commented once Ron had stopped the car a dozen blocks from the vets and let the bound and handcuffed villain out of the trunk. "By the way, that trunk would be a good place for a stick up."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Ron blustered, although the truth was that he DID know nothing about most of what was going on.

"Oh, it's a little deodorant dispenser with tape on the back. You can put them anywhere and they come in dozens of scents. They're really quite marvelous."

"I know what those are," Ron sighed as he put the car back in gear. "I meant the other…"

"Oh THAT," Drakken continued conversationally. "Well, you see, the law requires Hospitals to report gunshot wounds, so Miss All That and her mother have been bending the rules by not treating her in a normal facility."

Drakken raised an eyebrow as he saw Ron's face darken. "So you really didn't know about any of this before now? Interesting. I wonder what else she's been keeping from you?"

"Maybe I ought to put you back in the trunk," Ron glowered.

Drakken merely smiled.

"And then drive over every speed bump in town," Ron added.

Drakken stopped smiling. And didn't say another word until they got to the police station.

Now, though, Ron wished he hadn't been so quick to shut the villain's blue lips. He probably wouldn't be able to talk to Kim until after work tomorrow. Not in person, at least, and he had a feeling that the upcoming conversation was going to have to be very up close and personal.

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As he'd half expected, Kim wasn't there when he called her home phone number, and it was an early day at SmartyMart. The shower was so disgusting that he ended up tossing a towel on the floor and lathering himself up in front of the sink before quickly dancing in under the spray to rinse off the foam.

And the soles of his feet STILL ended up totally black. A hurried application of deodorant later and he was pulling on the inevitable mismatched pair of socks, boxers, a pair of tan jeans and a plain button up white dress shirt. Standard smart work attire for the smartly dressed SmartyMart employee once he added one of his two treasured red Smarty-Vests from its hanger in the closet. However, as he reached for one of the vests he happened to notice the half-price laundry coupon attached to the stack of dry cleaning.

"We'll get the stain out or it's free," he read in surprise. "Hmmm."

Stepping back into the bathroom, he scooped up the now black towel from the floor of the shower and dropped it into the plastic bag containing Kim's inked mission suit, then added her bra, panties and the ink-soaked Kimmunicator into the bag, then tossed the whole deal into the little backpack in which he always carried his mission clothes. There was no way he was going to put those disgusting things in the family washing machine and risk catching heck from his mom, but maybe the cleaners could actually handle it.

Besides, that blonde girl had been kind of cute, and it was on the way to Wade's house where he could pick up Rufus.

It would be nice, he mused as he raced down the steps so that he'd have time to grab a plate of breakfast nacos, if SOMETHING would go right today.

It didn't.

"Ronald?"

Ron braked as his mom's voice caught him at the bottom of the stairs.

"Uh, yes Mom?" the teen replied as he turned to see her sitting at the table in the kitchen."

"Do you have a second, dear?" The woman who had been in labor for 23 hours to bear him asked.

"Er… I'm kind of on my way to work."

"Oh," His mom looked oddly disappointed and Ron suddenly felt like a heel. What the hell, he could get a Brekkirito and eat it while driving.

"No," Ron sighed, making a U. "I guess I've got a few minutes. What's up?"

"Oh…" His mom's tone was oddly evasive and… was there a slight tinge of melancholy? "Nothing much with me. But what's new with you, Ron?"

'_She called me Ron,'_ Ron thought. _'Not usually a good sign.'_

Out loud he said "Nothing, really. Why?"

His mother smiled crookedly and shrugged. "We just haven't talked much lately. Not since you and Kim…"

_'Oh, was that what it was?'_ Ron sighed inwardly. THAT he could deal with. Even if it meant massaging the truth a bit. "It's fine mom. We're still BFFs… best friends forever, I mean. We just… turned out to not be as compatible, um…"

Ron cut himself off before he totally embarrassed himself by admitting that he'd basically gone crazy during he and Kim's brief romantic relationship. In retrospect, he thought back over some of the things he'd done and didn't understand how she'd put up with some of his antics as long as she had.

On the other hand, as last night seemed to prove, she'd also clearly been hiding some things from him as well. So maybe it was at least partly her fault for not being honest from the beginning. And on that note…

"Mom…" He found himself asking unexpectedly, "How would you…?"

"I mean," he began again after stopping to collect his thoughts. "If there was a part of someone's life that they weren't willing to share with you, is it fair to demand that they share it if you find out about part of it before they're ready to talk to you about it?"

"N..no.., I guess not," His mom replied, with far more gravity than he had expected. "But… at the same time… if you felt that they were doing it to protect you, wouldn't you agree that it's also important for YOU to show that you understand and accept that they do have those secrets, in the best way you can… even if they're not ready to talk about them openly?"

"Um…" Ron stopped, a bit surprised at the profundity of his mother's words. It was almost as if she was reading his mind! "I… guess it's like a two way street, huh? You can be on one side or the other, but maybe sometimes you have to meet on the island in the middle."

"Yes, I guess you do," Nonnie nodded with a slight smile, then glanced at the kitchen clock on the wall. "You probably ought to get to work now, dear."

"Right Mom," Ron agreed, feeling oddly lifted. On the spur of the moment, he leaned over, kissed his mother on the forehead and gave her a wink as he pulled away. "Kim's my best friend, but you'll always be my best girl, Mom!"

Nonah Jean Stoppable watched her son leave and ran their conversation over in her head. There was no doubt in her mind as to what Ronald had been trying so desperately to say…

And, as he'd said, sometimes you couldn't stand on one side of the street or the other. Sometimes you had to meet halfway.

But first… she was going to go upstairs and take one more look around his room. If that black underwear wasn't still on the curtain rods, she had a feeling she knew exactly what her son had been wearing under his SmartyMarty best the entire time he had been talking to her.

And the strange thing was, now that they'd 'talked' about it without actually talking about it, it didn't bother her so much any more.

###############################

"Mom! I'm home!" Ron yelled as he came in the door, Rufus tucked back in his traditional place in Ron's pocket.

"Howme!" The molerat echoed, glad to be back in a comfortable environment at last. "Fnaly!"

"Yeah," Ron apologized for perhaps the thirtieth time as he ambled up the stairs. "I've told you I'm sorry, but you wouldn't have wanted to be around Kim then anyway.

"Scawy Kim?" the pink creature looked up, squinting his eyes in a startlingly good impression of Kim scowling.

"The scariest," Ron nodded. "10.5 on the Kimness scale."

Although, Ron thought, not as scary as the Kim he'd seen on the recorded message she'd left on his Kimmunicator. She looked like she hadn't slept much and as near as he could tell, she was still wearing the clothes she'd been wearing last night.

What really bothered him, though, were her eyes. They looked… haunted. And worried.

But he'd find out what it was all about soon enough. She'd wanted to meet him after work and had suggested Bueno Nacho. Her treat. Which only made it sound like it was really something bad, because one of the things that HAD come out during their rocky break up was that Kim really didn't care much for Bueno Nacho these days. Occasionally, sure, but Ron had kept careful notes and the ONLY time Kim ever suggested going there was when she was trying to make up for something. For her to do it in advance? Preemptively?

Terrifying.

Which was one reason running home first made sense. It gave him more time to brace himself. Plus he couldn't afford to get any diablo sauce on his white dress shirts. It didn't just stain, it ATE through the made in Rodigan material.

"Mom?" He yelled again as he hit the top landing. He had a feeling he needed to get some more of his mother's advice before he went and found out what was up with Kim.

And then he stepped through the door of his room and stopped.

His jaw dropped.

Laid out, on the bed, were three dresses, all carefully matched with precisely coordinated accessories… even matching colored shoes. There were six pairs of panty hose. Two packages of panties. A pair of sweaters and… a long blonde wig exactly the shade of his own hair.

Had he stepped into Hana's room by accident? Via a time warp ten years into the future? Why would anyone have…?

"It was hard finding them in your size," a voice spoke softly behind him and Ron turned to see his Mother, the most beautiful smile than he could ever remember seeing on her face as she looked at him with love in her eyes.

"My… size?" Ron stammered.

"Yes dear," Nonnie approached him tentatively, just barely keeping her voice from cracking as she stepped towards her son and enveloped him in a gentle but loving hug. "You said sometimes we have to meet in the middle of the street, right?"

"Ub… gah…" Ron began, then looked at her in disbelief. "Really?"

"Mmm hmm," Nonnie sighed gently, embracing her son physically even as she embraced who he was inside. "Consider it my way of saying… that I love you, and accept you for who you are."

"What do you think about trying the blue one on first?"

_To Be Continued In The Next Chapter… __**RON OR RHONDA?**_

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_**Legal stuff:**__ Kim Possible, Ron Stoppable, Wade Load, Rufus, Dr. Draken, Shego, Dr. Anne Possible, Hana Stoppable, Mr. and Mrs. Stoppable, SmaryMart and Henchco are all borrowed from the wonderful KP Universe, the creations of Mark McCorkle and Bob Schooley, and trademarks of the Disney media organizations. The senior Stoppable's full names are subject to conjecture, so I've incoporated the most common fanon names with ones I feel fit better in the context of the show: Nat Stoppable and Nonnie Stoppable. For those who haven't caught it, both the story's name and the chapter titles are references to the legendary Ed Wood. All use should be considered fair under current parody law, and is not for profit in any case. Finally, this story takes place at a time at which all characters shown should be considered to be over the legal age of 18_


	3. Ron or Rhonda?

_AN: So, this chapter ended up running a bit longer than the first two, as well as took a bit more serious turn. Sort of. Yes, it remains a Ron-centric story, but the Kim/Shego elements were interesting and... Oh, I don't know, I'm really just winging it here! __ Legal Stuff at bottom._

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Nightmare of Ecstasy: The Strange Life and Fate of Ron Stoppable

By SHADO Commander

Chapter 3 – Ron or Rhonda?

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Kim sat in the Bueno Nacho and stared at the giant framed poster of the new Desert Naco hanging on the window… ice cream poured in a naco shell, deep-fried and dipped in chocolate, nuts and a dribble of Diablo sauce. Not that Kim was really noticing the ad, it just happened to be the item that was in directly in line with her angle of view, and as she leaned back in the same plastic bench she had sat in for years to rest her eyes for a moment, she realized the image was actually still floating in front of her brain, burned in as a negative image. Rather appropriate considering that she had Ron on the brain.

Where was he?

It felt beyond weird to be sitting her in her usual spot without Ron. He'd always beaten her here in the past, and since he preferred to take the bench that faced towards the front counter and the register, Kim had always had the side that let her look out the front window into the parking lot. Which had been good, really, as it had let her stay on the look out for enemies and so on… but…

But now, though, she wasn't sure who or what she was looking out the window for. She hoped it would still be her best friend since Pre-K, the person she'd always thought she trusted more than any other. Unfortunately, that was the same person who, she'd realized last night, she'd actually been deceiving for a long time… even more than she'd been deceiving herself.

'_Face it, Possible,'_ She growled at herself. _"When you fuck up, you fuck up big time."_

The thing was, it was _supposed _to have been just a one time thing. And it was done with the best of intentions. Global Justice had a job they needed done; a job that Kim could do better than any of GJ's established agents… no, a job that probably ONLY Kim could do. In retrospect, Kim couldn't believe that she'd taken so long to twig to the real reason Betty Director had suddenly become so interested in one adolescent hero by the name of Kim Possible, but back then she'd been… incredibly naïve.

And, in looking back from where she was now, it really was absurdly simple when one considered that, in addition to fighting WEE, Global Justice's other major targets included human trafficking and the sexual exploitation of children. The math was simple. In the case of this particular mission, Kim stood a far better chance of not having her cover blown, because she didn't have to pretend to be an underage girl showing up to meet a pedophile human trafficker who also happened to be a drug kingpin for a major cartel; she WAS an underage girl showing up to meet a pedophile human trafficker who happened to be a drug kingpin for a major cartel.

Well, she'd been just barely sixteen, which made her 'legal' in the country in question, but her small build and lack of upper body enhancements would let her pass for much younger girl than even the youngest looking GJ agent could ever hope to, and this was a case where younger was definitely better. More than that, Kim was an attractive girl. Certainly not drop dead gorgeous, at least not in Kim's mind. But all American girl next door cute? Oh yes, with a little sprucing and makeup she could manage that, which made her perfect bait. And unlike just about any other bait… er, person…. that GJ could possibly recruit for the job, Kim was uniquely capable of taking care of herself. After all, even without any of her gizmos and gimmicks, she was still ranked in the highest master classes of 16 martial arts, was nearly as well versed in a dozen more AND was an accomplished escape artist. What would be suicide for almost anyone else would be dangerous but quite possible for her.

And it wasn't like it would have been a long term, undercover assignment. GJ's plan was to set it up so that there would be a raid just after Kim arrived. Long enough for her to be taken into the secret underground bunker that GJ knew was there, but had been unable to prove conclusively enough to convince the local authorities to gain free access. Once Kim was in, GJ could invoke the clauses in their existing international charters and move in without local authorization. A quick in and out and it would all be over.

Nor had she made a complete secret of it. She'd talked it over with her parents very carefully, told them about the 14 and 15 year old bodies, mostly of foreign girls, that kept showing up in the desert just a few mile away from their target's fortified mansion. And she'd told them how the local officials were either owned by or terrified of the kingpin and unable or unwilling to help, and how Global Justice had to have confirmation that what they thought was inside the fortress really was there before they struck. And then, once all the screaming and shouting was done, she'd sat down with them again, this time with Dr. Director, and talked about exactly what precautions they were going to take. How she'd be mic'ed and chipped, how they'd always know exactly where she was. And in the end, after yet _another_ girl disappeared, they'd finally agreed.

But she hadn't told Ron. Dr. Director trusted Kim to take care of herself in that kind of situation, but not Ron… and, well, given that it was just a one time thing, Kim had convinced herself that he'd only get upset about what she was going to have to do.

No, not to have sex with the creep! God no! But in order to get to him, to be 'processed' through the delivery channels GJ was sure were being used, Kim's assumed persona, May B. Iwill, had to do what it was known that some of the other girls had done… submitted photos to a website looking for 'teen models.' She'd used temporary hair and skin dyes to alter her appearance, but the photos she'd submitted were still pretty scandalous, (even if they had been shot by her mom, of all people, but who else could she ask?)

And then, while waiting for GJ to launch their attack after she'd given the confirm signal, she'd had to start posing for her 'official audition video.' In the nude. Of course. And she'd still been nude when she'd had to take down the Kingpin herself, when it turned out that he had a secret escape route no one knew of. One that took him past the hidden cages where three other girls, only one of whom they'd known was missing, were found, miraculously all alive. Along the way Kim had taken a minor bullet wound, but considering the Kingpin's cartel's record of reprisals against families and relatives, she'd opted to not go to a hospital and risk having the fact that Kim Possible had been shot leak out, so in the end her mom had done the removal… okay, maybe it was a little more than a minor wound… at the vet clinic owned by an old friend's husband, so that no one would ever connect May with Kim Possible. At least not until the case finally came to trial and she'd have to testify, anyway.

And that should have been it. A one time thing. She wouldn't regret doing it, mostly, but she'd never felt less clean in her life than she had while that… she didn't have words that went low enough to describe the sheer loathsomeness of that thing in a human shape… snapped his little pictures and shot his little film. And all the while, she kept her sanity by telling herself it was just this once and she'd never, ever do something like this again.

Until she saw the girls she'd saved being reunited with their families.

Since then, Kim and GJ had taken down nearly a hundred more similar sickos, using a variety of fake name and disguises… Leaann Thisway, Mai Dooit, Alma St. Certainly… always in cases where there were girls going missing or known to be in serious danger. It was work Kim knew needed to be done, but at the same time it was something she didn't want anyone to ever know that she did. Even if GJ did lock up the evidence of her own involvement, and Wade… yes, who else could she trust to REALLY clean everything off the web… did his best to make sure everything disappeared as far as the internet was concerned, the end result was that there was a rather large library of Possible Porn out there that Kim wasn't sure she'd ever be able to explain to anybody, let alone Ron.

Hell, when she thought about some of the things she'd posed for… never sex, no, she still drew the line there, which ironically only served to make her more believable as a stupid kid from New Jersey or Kansas or wherever who had just gotten in over her head… but some of the others…

So she just hadn't told Ron.

And she'd been doing this for nearly two years now. Against a far more ruthless type of foe than the Dr. Drakkens and Duff Killigan's of the world, people who could and would use more lethal force for far less reason. As a result, Kim had taken some serious injuries that she'd had to hide from Ron completely, which is why she'd never revealed the secret of the Vet clinic and 'Princess Possible.'

And she hadn't told him what was going on even as what she was doing ate little chips away from her soul every time some new atrocity came to light. Not after the sleepless nights where staring at the ceiling for hours was preferable to what she might relive in her dreams. And not as it had slowly smothered her own interest in sex beneath a lice-crawling blanket of bad memories. Which, of course, she'd been unable to tell Ron about even as it doomed the relationship they were trying to build. Kissing and hugging. Yes, please! Anything more… brrrr.

No, she'd never told him a thing. Hadn't even given him a hint. Had kept up the fiction of everything being normal even as the one thing she'd thought she most wanted fell apart and crumbled. She'd bottled it all up and hidden it all away.

And then with last night… and after what had happened with Shego… suddenly the glass she'd kept this entire other life bottled up inside had shattered and there was toxic, burning liquid fuel pouring everywhere.

So now she was sitting in Bueno Nacho, stewing in something hotter than the hottest Diablo sauce, wondering if she'd still have a best friend since pre-K after she started telling him some things about the real Kim Possible.

If he even showed up at all.

Where _was_ he?

"Hey KP, sorry I'm late."

Kim looked up at the attractive young woman standing next to her, then her jaw hit the table as the girl slid into the seat opposite her.

The girl with Ron's voice and face.

And, inexplicably, her heart leaped for joy. Because apparently maybe she wasn't the ONLY one who'd been keeping a couple of secrets from their best friend. Maybe she had a chance of not losing him after all!

#############################

Ron had been watching covertly Kim since he first came in the Bueno Nacho. She looked bad… maybe not as bad as in her message, but still like she hadn't slept in days. Some of that was probably due to the dark spots under her eyes, which going by the fact that her hair was still streaked with black was also probably partially due to the ink, but she obviously hadn't recognized him when he walked past the front window and he didn't think she'd normally not spot him. He felt pretty guilty about the fact that that actually made him happy, since if SHE didn't snap to the fact that it was him, who would? But at the same time, as bad as she looked… should he be dumping THIS on her?

Then again, she was probably already thinking he'd stood her up, and how would that feel? He'd kept hoping his mother would tire of this new game she'd come up with, that she'd yell "April Fools!" or something (even though it was October,) and explain that it was really a joke. But she hadn't and Rufus, who was a very good judge of people, had given him a look that said the Mole Rat thought his mom was completely on the level… or flat out crackers, depending on how you looked at it. As a result, he'd looked at the clock by the bedside and realized that he was already late and had taken off even though he was still in the last outfit and…

Well, it was too late to change that part now. And in a way, it would make things easier to explain… or at least make Kim understand the problem was real.

IF he wanted to add to whatever other problems she was having.

And yet… he had to talk to someone and who else was there? She was his BFF, his port in a storm, the soft drink to his naco. So, steeling his nerves, he walked purposefully towards her and announced his presence.

"Hey KP, sorry I'm late."

His eyes never left Kim's face as he slid into his usual spot in the usual way… well, except for the tucking the skirt down and crossing the legs thing… knowing that how she reacted in these first few seconds would tell him everything he needed to know.

The first look, as he'd expected, was confusion. Recognition followed a millisecond later. Despite the artfully applied makeup, his face was still his face and the long blonde wig WAS the exact color of his hair. And then…

SHE WAS SMILING!

No freak out, no _'get thee gone, foul transvestite,'_ not even a look of '_what the hell?_' Just… a big sigh of relief, like she was glad he was there, even if he had arrived wearing a very nice outfit from the Norma Desmond collection from Reech & Spenthriffs and a pair of Jimmy Chew pumps that cost more than he made in a month at SmartyMart.

And that gave him the courage to take the next step, because even though he HAD come to find out what she wanted to say, he absolutely had to tell her EVERYTHING before he lost his nerve.

"I… uh… know you had something you wanted to tell me," He stammered, "But I may kinda have something I need to talk to you about too."

Kim's left eyebrow went up fractionally, and Ron couldn't help but note that there was a little section that had been dyed black.

"Kinda?" Kim asked with what might have been just the hint of a barely held back giggle.

"Yeah," Ron felt a couple of hysterical hee-hee's bubbling up inside himself as well. "I kinda think my Mom might be dressing me funny."

And then they were both laughing hysterically. It was going to be all right.

Well, between _them_ anyway.

"Rrrrruriroroiruriurrrr!" came an irritating buzz.

"Ohmigosh! Rufus!" Ron gasped, pulling his handbag onto the table and quickly undoing the latch. Hacking and sputtering, a turning blue Mole Rat popped out of the purse clutching a delicate little handkerchief over his nose, the reason for which immediately assaulted both of their noses.

"Oh man," Ron swore. "I must not have screwed the cap back on the perfume tightly enough. That's M.'s new fragrance and it costs a mint!"

"Nah schmell lik mint!" the mole rat chattered angrily, the wonderful mole-ratty musk that he normally exuded now completely drowned in the spicy aroma that was meant to convey the essence of M.'s "Down Home Girl Doin' Down Town Right" advertising campaign. "Peeeyew!"

"I'm sorry!" Ron apologized fervently. "And I'm sorry you had to ride in there, I'll get a nice satchel or something, okay? And buy you a full plate of Nacos all for yourself. Just don't tell my mom we spilled that stuff, okay?"

Glaring, the mole rat held up two tiny digits in response.

"Okay, TWO plates of Nacos," Ron gave in. "You're acting like this was all MY idea!"

"Wait," Kim gaped, interupting. "You were serious? Your MOM dressed you like this?"

"Um…" Ron looked at her with a look of quiet desperation. "Yeah. Let me get Rufus' Nacos and we can talk about it, okay?"

#############################

Shego woke up in a room she'd never been in before. Not that that was surprising. Most hospitals had a lot of rooms and she was clearly in a hospital…

Or was she? The room had three doors: two on the left side of the bed… which she could now see was a queen and not the usual hospital furniture… and one at the foot. That wasn't out of the normal for medical facilities, and there were various bits of medical equipment in her field of view, as well as one of those horrible medical posters that always showed the human body dissected in a lot of colors that nature couldn't possibly actually produce. But where was the chemical odor of bleach and disinfectant she associated with doctors?

Arguing against hospital was the poster on the wall for The Sound of Screams Played Backwards, a shock band that was so under-the-radar that they didn't even have an official website. And what looked like a fully stocked bookshelf filled with paperbacks, with one shelf turned over to a portable CD boom box and a few stacks of CDs. And instead of the wall mounted television set that seemed to be required by law in hospitals, there was a small desk with a very state of the art PC.

And not a single buzzer to call for a nurse. How did you get pain killers in this place? And THAT made her realize that her head hurt like hell. What in the hell had…?

She started to gasp and then the act of gasping made her gasp as her hands came up to her face to clutch the suddenly blossoming mushroom cloud of pain that was her jaw. Waiting a second for the pain to die down, she carefully reached up with her fingers and found that her face was wrapped in several layers of elastic bandages.

Kim.

Kim had sucker punched her.

Or…

Had she, Shego, the ultimate martial artist, somehow simply and inexplicably forgotten to dodge an obvious attack? As the details of what happened began to flood back, she realized that that was exactly what had happened. And why.

Oh boy.

She wondered if she still had a job. Dr. Drakken wouldn't have been too happy about the way his ace in the hole had gone down without a fight, but… someone had obviously footed the bill for a private recovery suite, because this certainly wasn't any prison medical ward. How could it be when the guards a dangerous prisoner like her would have had to have were… not here?

Things got even weirder as she made herself get uneasily to her feet. With a scream she almost pitched over on her face, catching herself at the last second. It took a second to realize that, instead of the manacles she'd normally have on her feet when under a doctor not of her own choosing's care, she was instead wearing a little white pair of socks that she HADN'T been wearing the last time she looked at her toes, and the floor was a very slick hardwood. How embarrassing.

Beyond the socks and the bandages, however, she wasn't wearing much else… just an open backed white hospital gown and not much else… probably not too surprising given that she'd been going commando under the catsuit, after all, but it was odd that whoever had put the socks on hadn't… well, okay, maybe Shego was actually glad that no one had put panties on her. Or diapers. She didn't have any stitches either, nor any sign that she'd been cavity searched. There wasn't even a catheter or PICC to administer knock out drugs.

That seemed to indicate that, whatever problems she'd had, there was no expectation of any kind of immediate need for chemical additions to her bloodstream. Which was as a close to a "you're fine, Shego, go home," as she needed. Instinct told her that the two paired doors probably didn't lead outside, so she swiveled towards the one at the foot of the bed… noticing, as she approached it, that someone had left a little green stick-up note square in the middle of the door. And if that wasn't enough to make it clear it was a message for her, it had also been scrawled on with a green ballpoint pen as well, in somewhat less than elegant cursive handwriting.

_**Are you REALLY going to go out dressed like that? (Try the other doors first.)**_

Ooookay, Shego had to admit. That was rather a damn good point, given that the hospital gown left her green ass hanging to the wind, and little white socks weren't what you wanted to be wearing if you were trying to evade a pack of police dogs through an alley filled with broken glass, something she always had to consider as an option.

Turning back to the other doors, she now saw that they ALSO had little green notes on them.

One on the door closest to the front door read:

_**Closet. (Take what you need to take)**_

While the other said"

_**Water Closet. (Do what you need to do.)**_

Oh my God, Shego thought, I've fallen through the looking glass. Could bottles labeled 'drink me' and cakes labeled 'eat me' be far behind?

Given that not being mostly naked was her first priority, Shego opened the door marked Closet and was surprised to find that, in addition to the catsuit she'd been wearing last night, there were several other outfits and a SECOND catsuit, hanging in front of everything else in a dry cleaner's bag. Better yet, this one was one of her much beloved pre-Lowardian suits! The specialized weaving facility of the firm that made her catsuits had been an unfortunate casualty of war, having been flattened by a tripod during one of the last phases of the battle, and while the company had soon found new suppliers, the new suits made from the new generation cloth had never seemed quite as soft on her skin as the old versions had. That said, knowing the age of this suit pretty much eliminated any question that might have remained as to where it had come from or who her mysterious host must be.

It was, obviously, the suit that Kim had worn when Drakken had her under mind control, which rather implied that the rest of the items filling out the hangers and storage baskets were also…

Just to confirm it, she pulled out and checked some of the other items. The sizes… Shego knew everything about Kim by heart… were indeed those of the former cheerleader's. And to be absolutely, positively sure, she pulled a dark brown sweater she thought she recognized and sniffed it. Yep. That was Kimmie's scent alright.

Pulling out the older catsuit, Shego started to lay it on the bed, then stopped and chose the brown sweater as well, plus a pair of loose cargos that she thought might fit her. Odds were that people were going to notice a green-skinned girl no matter what, but wearing her trademark outfit would guarantee her attracting attention. Plus it was a great excuse for borrowing a few things. New socks and a pair of panties from the clear plastic bins at the top of the closet followed, as well as… after a bit of deliberation… a delicate little bra. There was no way she could wear THAT of course, except maybe as a hat, but who said thieves had to be practical? And anyway, the note had said 'take what you need to take.'

Fuck it. She grabbed two more pairs of panties, a white T-shirt with a pink heart on the front and a pair of cutoff shorts. She'd analyze WHY she was doing that later.

In the meantime, all the moving around had set her internal processes in motion. Fortunately, as promised, the second door to the left revealed a well stocked bathroom.

No, better than well stocked. The enclosed single unit Japanese style shower and tall tub to one side was nice, and the washlet type automated toilet next to the sink was her idea of bliss, but what she saw first when she opened the door was what she went for. The large stock of pain medications. Reading the labels, she dug around until she found some industrial strength codeine in a prescription level suitable for large bears or small armies.

While popping those and washing them down with the bottle of spring water provided, she checked out her own reflection in the mirror. As bad as the bandages felt, they didn't look that bad at all, nor did they seem to be concealing any major wounds. Her guess was that someone had reset a broken bone in her face, but that whoever had done the work had understood her fast healing abilities well enough to simply set it and leave well enough alone. The elastic was mainly there to keep Shego herself from moving things accidentally.

Which probably meant she should stop POKING it!

Slipping onto the toilet, she had to fight herself from making an "aaaah" of pleasure as the pent up pressure in her bladder was finally relieved. That kept her from hurting herself, but the effort was wasted a few seconds later when she noticed the instructions for the toilet's more 'advanced' functions stuck on the wall opposite her, at what was now eye level, with a single green pushpin, with yet another green stick-up note applied at the bottom.

_**I hope you're not too pissed at me. Can we talk?**_

Damnit! That made her snort, and right now snorting HURT! Damn you Kim Possible, why do you have to be so damn likable…?

And cute.

And have those huge olive eyes that always seemed to be sending a message that Shego knew they couldn't possibly be sending.

Because it was the fact that Kim WAS so goddamn likable, and more, that had resulted in Shego being where she was right now. And she didn't have any idea as to what to do about it.

"I'm screwed," the pale villainess groaned to herself. "I am so screwed…"

#############################

"Yes, I'd like three plates of Nacos and a Lite Salad," Ron told Ned in a high-pitched falsetto voice. "And two Large, um, DIET sodas."

"Sure thing Ron," Ned nodded.

"Aaack!" Ron attempted not to collapse underneath the counter in embarrassment. "You recognized me?"

"Ron, you come in here at least twice a day," the BN Manager replied calmly. "You used to WORK here. You invented the Naco. I see more of you than any other human being on the planet except the kids who work the drive through and fry stations, and most of them only last a few months. Of COURSE I recognize you. Especially when two people and a pink rat order your signature order, diet soda excluded."

"Oh," Ron replied after that had had a second to soak in. "And you're not… um… weirded out?"

"Nah, fast food employees are like the maids and butlers of the nineteenth century. Almost invisible, so you'd be surprised at some of the things we see, especially on the grave shift. That Mr. Barkin and his banjo, for example. And besides…"

"And besides…?" Ron's instincts caught the tincture of something he probably didn't want to know buried underneath the edge of that dangling preposition, but against his better judgment, he had to ask anyway.

"Well, gosh, Ron," The spectacled fast food purveyor shrugged as if it was obvious. "Your best friend since you were a little kid has always been a girl, and she obviously wore the pants in the relationship, so we all thought you might be a little Nelly. It was a lot weirder when you and Kim started dating… but I guess she was just trying to be your beard, huh?"

Ron's instincts had been right. He hadn't wanted to hear that, and now he had even more to think about as he returned to the table with their order.

"Okay," Kim picked up right where they had left off as Rufus disappeared into his cheeseladen plate and vanished from sight. "Back it up to: your MOM dressed you like this?"

"Well, technically I dressed myself like this, 'cause, that'd have been creepy… well, even creepier… but she provided all the clothing and provided a lot of assistance and advice. Fortunately I had that experience in your body, and you'd already shown me how to do the tricky things like put on your bra, lipstick and…"

"DON'T remind me," Kim groaned, wondering once again what kind of karma one had to have to have a guy you've known all your life inside your body just as your periods about to start. On the plus side, though, Ron had never once made any comments about being 'on the rag,' or any of the other things boys usually said, but it was something they'd never talked about afterwards. Just like he'd never commented on the fact that she'd had a bit of trouble adjusting to the nozzle being in the wrong position when she sat and had managed to decorate a good portion of his…

But she was getting off the subject and Ron was patiently waiting for her to come back to Earth.

"Sorry," She mumbled, blushing at what he was probably thinking she was thinking about, which she was. "Go on, please."

"Er, yeah… Well, the thing is, she DID buy these clothes for me, and a couple of other outfits and all the stuff that you wear with them, plus makeup and the wig. And she was really insistent about me trying them on… so I… well…" Ron paused, getting so flummoxed that he had to wait for his brain to re-boot.

"I think," Ron began again, once his synapses were in order, "That it started with this strange conversation we had this morning."

"Strange?"

"Uh huh. Not strange like running around the room waving a weedwhacker while wearing a tinfoil hat strange, just a little… off. Like she was depressed about something. And at the time I thought we were talking about you and me, but then I got to thinking later that we were kinda talking around each other, and she said this thing about it being important to accept that others have secrets and… sometimes we have to show people things because we can't talk about them."

Kim's eyebrows went up. "And then she hit you with this."

"Right after I got back from work. I mean it was crazy Kim. Like she'd knocked over a clothing store."

"A VERY nice clothing store Ron. That outfit you're wearing costs a bundle Ron, so don't you dare get Naco on it."

Ron looked at his Naco and then sadly returned the handful he'd been about to scoff down back to his plate, his lower lip quivering pathetically. How could life be so UNFAIR?

"Here," Kim sighed, handing him the knife and fork that had been intended for her salad, followed by a napkin. "These are these amazing inventions for eating without getting food all over yourself. So you came home and she had bought all these clothes and you just…"

"Indulged her, yeah." Ron admitted, carefully cutting a Naco chunk into quarters. "What else could I do? Because I kept thinking back to when… when we were dating… and how she'd talked about how it would be nice it would be not to have to wait 'til Hana grew up to have a daughter to go shopping with. And she said a few things like that today."

"But she's still got Hana. Why would she suddenly want to dress you like Rhonda instead of Ron?" Kim frowned. And then it hit her. "Oh God, Ron, you don't think…?"

"My mom's dying…" Ron managed to choke out through a dry throat. "That's the only possible answer."

Kim refused to believed it… at first. "But… no… why wouldn't she just tell you?"

"MY parents Kim? Do you remember how I found out about Hana? They can NEVER just come out and tell me something. I used to think I'd find out they were dead when I'd come home one day and find tombstones that read 'This is our way of telling you we were ill."

"Well…" Kim had to admit, Ron wasn't that far off the mark. "Couldn't you maybe… ask your dad?"

Ron's angst meter passed eleven. "But he might not know either and she might not WANT him to know. They talk to each other, the way they do me. My dad thought they were going out for seafood when he was taking my mom to the hospital."

Kim's jaw dropped, certain outrageous comments Mr. Stoppable had once made in front of a lobster tank suddenly making sense.

"But that's beside the point," Ron rolled on. "I've thought it over and over again and I can't come up with any other reason she would suddenly be THIS desperate out of the blue. Can you?"

"Ah…." Kim tried to pull something out of the ether and came up empty.

"See? It all makes sense?" Ron sniffed. "But enough about me and my problems, you wanted to talk to me about something?

"Er… it might not be a good time," Kim replied with a strained look on her face.

"Please Kim," Ron insisted. "This thing with my mom is eating my brain alive, I need something else to think of, something that's not quite so… "

"Ron…" Kim cut him off. "I'm a lousy friend. I've lied to you, I've been doing kiddie porn for about two years and… I think I may be gay."

"Okay," Ron admitted. "That DOES help put things in perspective."

.

_To Be Continued In The Next Chapter… ONE MILLION AC/DC!_

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_**Legal stuff!:**__ Kim Possible, Ron Stoppable, Wade Load, Rufus, Dr. Draken, Shego, Hana Stoppable, Mr. and Mrs. Stoppable, James and Ann Possible, Ned and Dr. Betty Director are all borrowed from the wonderful KP Universe, are the creations of Mark McCorkle and Bob Schooley, and are trademarks of the Disney media organizations. The name Nightmare of Ecstasy and this chapter's title are references to the legendary Ed Wood. All use should be considered fair under current parody law, and is not for profit in any case. Finally, this story takes place at a time at which all characters shown should be considered to be over the legal age of 18_


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